Lucy Mae Blues
by beautiful.mind-broken.body
Summary: Everyone knows the kinds of battles the boys of Tulsa fight; their problems could be solved with a switchblade. For the greaser girls, however, things weren't so simple. Thanks to Allison!
1. Chapter 1

My brother Darry was always telling me it wasn't smart for me to walk home by myself from school, but I never paid him much attention. Sure, the boys liked to jump each other until they were all equally covered in bruises and scratches and scars, but that kind of thing never happened to me, or any other girl I could think of really.

The only time the guys ever paid much attention to a girl who was walking home from school was to whistle at her and call out dirty things to try to get her to blush. That had never happened to me either, but I'd watched my brothers' friends do it at least a million times to the pretty girls at school. I'd stopped walking home with Pony and Two-Bit, mostly because of the things that would come out of Two-Bit's mouth every time anything with legs walked by.

I'd never been bothered by anyone walking home and it wasn't because I had a reputation for being tough or because people were scared of the gang. I think it was because I just kind of blended into the background. I'd always known I wasn't much to look at. I didn't have Soda's beautiful blond hair, or even Darry's rich brown hair. I hadn't developed hardly any curves yet and I'd been 14 for a few months. I'd only had to start wearing a bra about a month before then. Even my name was plain, which was practically a miracle what with being a Curtis and all. But my father had graciously spared me at birth when he chose to name me after my mother's mother, Lucille. I think it had more to do with the fact that his favorite song at the time had been "Lucy Mae Blues" by Frankie Lee Sims. He used to sing that song to me when it was just the two of us cause Mamma hated it so much.

"Hey sweetie," I suddenly heard a greaser call out from across the street with a sharp whistle. For a second, I thought he was talking to me then blushed furiously when I realized he wasn't. Of course he wasn't.

"Dream on, jerk," came a brazen reply mixed with a few giggles from a few feet behind me, but I didn't dare turn around to see who it was.

I knew it was probably Angela or Margaret or one of those other loud, confident girls that wore their skirts above their knees and smoked cigarettes between classes. They yelled back at the boys they didn't like and flirted shamelessly with the ones they did. Everyone knew them. They'd never acted like that before this year though. It was like they'd all somehow come back from summer vacation with boobs and attitude. I figured that, since they were a year older than me, I'd probably get to act like that by the end of the coming summer.

"Lucy, you were supposed to wait for me!" I heard my friend Susan yelling down the street as she ran towards me.

I'd met Susan in an advanced math class that my mother had practically forced me to take last year. Susan had been the only reason I'd come out of it with a passing grade. She was quiet and shy at school--definitely not like the other greaser girls. She wasn't allowed to wear makeup or dye her hair or even stay out past seven most nights.

She finally caught up to me and we fell into stride. I didn't mind Susan very much, but everything seemed very slow and mild when I was with her, especially compared to being at home with the boys. Sometimes I even felt like I should whisper when I was talking to her.

"My mother said you can sleep over Friday night," she offered when I didn't say anything.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked her, squinting in the afternoon sun. The one other time I'd slept over Susan's house we'd played monopoly with her younger brothers, then her mother had made us go to bed at eight-thirty.

"That new show 'The Time Tunnel' will be on," she said with a smile. "I bet Mother will let us make popcorn and stay up to watch it."

I had to laugh then. While the rest of Tulsa would be bombing around town, Susan was perfectly content to spend the evening at home in front of the television.

"Okay, I'll come," I told her. Anything would be better than spending the night with Darry, who only wanted to watch the news.

We said our goodbyes as Susan turned the corner onto her street and I kept walking straight towards my place.

When I finally got home, I went right inside to change out of my school clothes, if only to keep Darry off my back. He was always carrying on about how expensive school clothes were. At school we had to wear skirts, but once I got home I usually put on some jeans and a button-down shirt. I always wore my banged up old saddle shoes and a pair of bobby socks.

"Hey Luce," Pony called after me as I dumped my school books on the couch and headed down the hall. "How'd that algebra test go?"

The best thing about having a near genius for a twin was the extra help on homework I got. I never claimed to be anywhere near as smart as pony, though everyone expected me to be.

"Not bad, I guess," I told him as I shut the door to my room to change.

"Darry called," Pony called from the living room. "He wanted to know if you'd make dinner. He's working late and Soda's out with Steve again."

It was supposed to be Soda's night to cook, but I'd do it if it meant avoiding one of his crazy concoctions. I wasn't the best cook, but at least you could tell what you were eating most of the time.

"He wanted to know if you'd do some laundry too …" Pony asked with a hopeful grin as I came out from my room and I couldn't say no.

By the time Darry got home Pony and I had gotten most of our homework done and dinner was about ready to come out of the oven.

"What is it?" Darry asked opening the door and peering in.

"Casserole," I answered slightly annoyed. It wasn't even my night to cook and he was complaining.

"It smells good anyway, Luce," he smiled, trying to sound convincing. "Why don't you set the table? I'll go wash up and get Pony."

"Okay," I agreed and he ruffled my hair a little as I started taking dished out of the cabinets.

"…can you believe the body on that Margaret girl?" I heard from the front porch and saw two silhouettes climbing the steps. "I mean, she's a fox."

"Yeah," Soda was laughing as he opened the front door. "Guess she did a little growing up over the summer."

"Who did?" I asked rounding the corner from the kitchen and Soda grinned widely, the tips of his ears going pink.

"What's for dinner?" he said, clearly ignoring my question. "I'm starved."

"_Who_ Soda?" I asked pointedly.

"No one you'd know," Steve growled, then eyed me up and down with a smirk. "Nice shoes."

I instantly felt my face burning up as I looked down at the dinged up shoes with the frayed laces. For the first time I could remember I was embarrassed about how I looked.

Dinner was unusually quiet that night. Darry was too tired to talk much, I think. Soda and Steve were wolfing down their food too fast to get a word in, and Pony never said much when Steve was around. I didn't eat. I couldn't.

All I could think about was what Steve had said. He'd never been particularly nice to me though, so I couldn't understand why it was bothering me so much. But I kept thinking about Angela and Margaret too. What was it about them that made every guy want to be with them? I imagined it to be exciting to have that much attention on you all the time.

"Lucy, eat your dinner," Darry said from across the table. "You know what you get like when you don't eat right."

I tried to force down a few bites, but it all got caught in my throat, then sat in my belly like a giant ball of lead. Darry, assuming I was getting sick, let me scrape my plate into the trash and go to bed.

When I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth I got stuck looking at myself in the mirror.

"_Thin, stringy hair,_" I thought to myself. "_Boring eyes; no eyelashes even. Stupid little nose. Goofy smile. Crooked teeth."_

I tried sticking my chest out really far to see what I'd look like when my boobs got bigger. I tried to give those sexy eyes that Angela and Margaret were always giving the boys. I didn't look sexy though. I just looked stupid.

"_No wonder no one pays attention to you,_" I thought.

_**Attn: Readers**_

_**Reviews are always appreciated. Let me know how I'm doing. BIG thanks to Lactose for all the help at 4 in the morning. Hannah**_


	2. Chapter 2

I thought about asking Darry if I could stay home from school the next day. I figured it would be better than asking him for money I knew we didn't have to buy new shoes. He had bills to pay and new shoes weren't really a priority.

I glared at my closet, where I'd banished my shoes the night before. I could see a scuffed toe peeking through the open door, mercilessly taunting me. I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying for them to disappear but, unfortunately, they were still sitting there when I opened them. I angrily kicked the door shut, flopping onto my bed with a dramatic groan. I was never going to wear those shoes again; I just couldn't.

"What's eating you?" I heard Pony ask and realized that he was standing in my doorway. "We have to leave for school in fifteen minutes."

"I'm not going," I announced sitting up, and Pony's eyebrows jumped up as he grinned. He knew as well as I did that skipping out on school wouldn't fly.

"You want to let Darry know, or should I?" he asked and I shot him a look.

He crossed the room in three long strides and opened my closet curiously, revealing the hated shoes. I snatched a towel from my floor and hurled it into my closet, managing to cover all but one dirty, frayed lace.

"I'm assuming this has got something to do with what Steve said last night, right?" Pony guessed, glancing at my clock and heading for the door again. He stopped and turned, waiting for me to answer.

I looked at him, studying his face for clues as to how he knew exactly what it was that was bothering me. Sometimes I forgot that Pony was infinitely more aware of people and what they were thinking and feeling than anyone else I knew.

"You can't let him get to you Luce. It's just Steve being… well, Steve," he told me, stooping in front of my mirror to make sure his hair looked as close to Soda's as possible. "They're just shoes anyways."

"Yeah, really ugly shoes," I muttered and all Pony could do was shrug and tap his watch impatiently.

I buried my head under my pillows and hoped that he'd take the hint to leave. For as smart as he was, he sure didn't understand a thing about being a girl. After a few seconds I heard him let out a frustrated sigh and head for the front door, calling out to Darry and Soda that he was leaving. I felt tears sting my eyes and wished wildly that Mom was still around. She'd know exactly what to say.

I sat up, an idea slowly forming in my head. Smiling at my rare stroke of brilliance, I slid off my bed and raced down the hall in my bare feet to the closet where Darry had carefully packed away all of Mom and Dad's things. I rummaged around through boxes of sweaters, old photographs and baby toys for a few minutes before I found exactly what I was looking for. I knew Darry would never just throw out all of Mom's old clothes, and there was a closet full of proof. I carefully selected a pair of blue heels with an open toe and slid into them. It was a little hard to walk straight in them and they were a size too big, but after a few laps up and down the hallway I'd just about gotten the hang of them.

"What in the world are you doing?" I heard Darry's voice boom down from the living room. He didn't seem angry though. In fact, he almost sounded mildly amused.

Suddenly, Soda's head popped out from the bathroom door, probably curious to know what Darry was hollering about.

I pivoted on the heels as effortlessly as I could manage and stuck a hand on my hip as I'd seen Margaret do sometimes when the boys would whistle at her. I'd hoped to pull the maneuver off gracefully, but wound up losing my balance and crashing into the wall.

"Real smooth," I heard Soda chuckle from the bathroom, but decided to ignore him.

"What are you talking about?" I asked Darry nonchalantly as I tottered down the hall towards him, my ankles buckling before I reached him.

I heard Soda choke back a laugh from behind me. "Are those Mom's shoes?" he asked opening the door all the way. "What are you doing with them?"

Scowling, I said, "What does it look like?"

"Well it looks like you're fallin' into walls," Soda shot back good-naturedly. I was about to tear into him when Darry held up a hand declaring a cease-fire.

"Alright," he cleared his throat and turned me back around towards the closet. "Put them away now, you're gonna be late for school."

"But Dar, I want to wear these _to_ school," I told him, and his face suddenly dropped.

"I don't think--" He started to say, but I cut him off before he could finish.

"Please Darry," I begged, trying to control the note of desperation in my voice. Why didn't anyone understand?

"Just what, exactly, is this all about Luce?" he asked scratching his head as if he was completely in the dark. I glanced at Soda, who seemed just as clueless as Darry.

"I can't wear those old shoes anymore," I confessed quietly. "Everyone will make fun of me."

Soda's cheeks suddenly went pink. He must have realized that I was talking about what Steve had said the night before. We both knew Darry would be less than thrilled if he knew Steve had been running his mouth again.

"I know we can't afford new ones," I added when Darry started to get the same look on his face he got when he had to pay bills. "And these ones were just sitting around in there…"

"Aw, let her wear them Dar," Soda piped up from the bathroom. "They're just shoes."

I beamed at Soda, relieved that I had him on my side. Darry could never say no to him. Soda winked back, clearly trying to make up for his best buddy's nasty remark.

Darry bit his bottom lip, looking at the shoes once more.

"Alright," he conceded finally, "but don't come complaining to me when you break your ankle."

"Have some faith Dar." I smiled, wrapping one arm around his waist for a quick hug as I used to other to steady myself, guaranteeing that I wouldn't fall again.

I warily hauled my bag off the living room floor, acutely aware that my balance could easily be thrown off, and headed out the front door. I was careful not to let the screen slap behind me. There was a decent amount of people out on the street and when Darry got to really yelling his voice could carry for blocks.

I spotted Pony up ahead and started running to catch up with him. It took me a few minutes to reach him; running in heels was a whole lot harder than running in saddle shoes. I finally caught up to him about two blocks from school. He glanced over at me, then did a double take.

"You grow between last night and this morning or something?" he asked.

"No," I answered, beaming that he'd noticed. "Just got some new shoes."

He tried to hide a grin and nodded slightly, letting me know that he approved. There was electricity in the air. Today would prove to be different, I just knew it. I could feel it.


	3. Chapter 3

When school ended and nothing miraculous had happened, I was more than a little disappointed. I'd thought for sure that my new shoes would at least earn me a little attention. I'd even slipped into the bathroom before first period to roll the waist of my skirt up in a futile attempt to show a little more leg, but it was all in vain.

I could see Two-Bit and Pony walking home about a block ahead of me, Two-Bit with his arm around some blond. They crossed the street before the bridge, probably heading to the DX or the new drive-in a little ways past there, The Red Arrow.

I looked down at my shoes and kicked at the ground dejectedly. Why did I think a stupid pair of heels would change the way people saw me? I was now and would be forevermore Lucy Mae; the invisible Curtis.

Suddenly there were a pair of steel-toed boots blocking my path on the sidewalk. I looked up, realizing that I was face-to-face with Kenny Ventura. He was the same age as Soda and Steve and ran around with the Brumley boys. He let his obscurely dark eyes meander up and down my body, then winked at me, chewing hard on the toothpick in his mouth.

"That's a mighty short skirt you got on doll face," he purred out in a tone that he usually reserved for Angela.

Instinctively, I tried to yank my skirt back down to where it belonged. I attempted to step around him, anxious for some reason to get away from him, but he caught my arm. He didn't grab me hard enough to stop me from leaving, but my ankle buckled again and I almost fell into him. He caught me with his other hand around my waist.

"Calm down," he cooed running his hand down my arm until the hair on my neck was standing on end.

I suddenly remembered how Margaret and Angela always yapped at him and how easily he would retreat his advances. I narrowed my eyes and cocked a hip out, slapping his hand off my waist.

"Back off Kenny," I snarled, my hair angrily whipping my face.

Kenny's mouth hung open for a minute as if he was surprised that had come out of me. To be honest, I was surprised at how easily I could mimic the girls I admired so much.

"You heard her Kenny," a voice said coolly from behind me. "Back off."

I glanced behind me as indifferently as I could, but was shocked to find Margaret by my side. Angela sauntered over behind her puffing on a cigarette, and leaned up against the doorway of a shop. The two other girls they were with I didn't know, and hung back behind us.

Kenney looked from me to Margaret, then let his gaze drift towards Angela. A smirk toyed with the corners of his mouth as he turned his attention from me to her.

"Angel, baby," he tried to sweet-talk her as well but she definitely wasn't having it.

"Take a walk, Romeo," she ordered blowing her smoke in his face.

For a minute he looked like he was about to try and push his luck with her, and shot back, "don't flip your wig," but got sidetracked by two Socy girls walking to their car. The temptation to heckle them was far to great for him and he wandered off towards them calling out every obscenity in the book.

Only then did I notice Margaret sizing me up from underneath a fringe of black lashes thick with mascara. I'd never been that close to her before, but I suddenly understood why all the boys--even Steve and Soda--wanted a piece of her. She wasn't afraid of anyone and it was glaringly obvious just by the way her slate gray eyes pierced right through you. It almost seemed like there was nothing that could rile this girl up, yet nothing could control her either.

"Thanks," I muttered for lack of having anything better to say to her.

"What for?" she asked flipping her wavy chestnut hair over her shoulder. "Looked like you had things under control yourself."

I nodded, trying to maintain the same distant look she was giving me. Angela suddenly left the cover of the doorway and circled around me, giving me a harder stare than the one Margaret had been.

"Your brother's Ponyboy?" she asked flicking her cigarette so that it went whizzing past my head and bounced off of a parked car.

I nodded again, afraid that if I spoke my voice would betray how terrified I was to be talking to these girls, Angela especially. I'd heard Pony and Johnny talking about her once and the things they'd said had made me turn red. He'd never admit it to anyone, but I'd always thought that Pony was more interested in Angela Sheppard than he cared to own up to.

"He's tuff enough," she shrugged in a sort of begrudging compliment. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Everyone knew that Angela wanted to jump Pony's bones, and would if she had the chance.

The two other girls who had been lingering behind us suddenly stepped forward, as if Angela's accolade had given them the approval they'd needed to speak to me.

"Your other brother, Sodapop," the one on the right with bright red lipstick said snapping her gum, "I'm just gone over him."

I gave a shrug similar to the one Angela had given me. I'd heard that from enough people that I didn't get easily flattered by it anymore. Besides, Soda didn't go for girls like her.

"How come I never see you around much?" Margaret asked out of the blue, holding out a hand to the fake blonde who still hadn't said anything. She quickly delved through her purse, finding a cigarette to give her friend. "Don't you party?"

Luckily I didn't have to answer her because a greaser who'd been cruising the block in a Mercury two-door coupe took a shot at laying some scratch, probably in an attempt to impress the girls.

"Ain't that Sully?" Margaret asked shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. "Wonder what he's doing driving. I thought he got busted on a five-oh-two."

"Five-oh-two?" I wondered aloud before I could stop myself.

Angela cackled and Margaret turned to look at me again. "You know, like drunk driving," she explained incredulously.

I felt the color rise up in my cheeks, furious that I'd let myself say something that stupid in front of them.

"That's a bad car," Margaret noted venerably.

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Its all show and no go," I said again without thinking and all four girls looked at me again.

"All show and no go?" Margaret repeated.

"You know," I answered in the same dubious tone she'd used with me just seconds before. "It looks nice, but it can't get out of its own way."

They all went to pieces at that and I silently thanked Soda and Steve for never shutting up about cars. At least I'd picked up a few good phrases to throw around from them.

"You're alright," Margaret allowed and it took everything I had not to start beaming. "You got plans for tonight yet?"

I almost choked but managed to shake my head. Angela stepped between Margaret and myself crossing her arms over her chest. She gave me a look she must have acquired from Curly. I'd seen him use it before when he'd used to hang around with Pony.

"We're going down to the strip around nine," She told me. "You in?"

Part of me knew Darry would never let me out of the house on a school night, never mind who my company was, but before I knew what I was doing I'd agreed to meet up with them on Peoria and they'd headed the opposite way down the street to their homes. God, what had I gotten myself into. I looked down at my shoes and half smiled. I _knew_ today would be different.


	4. Chapter 4

Stirring my dinner around on my plate, I grimaced as the front door slammed shut and Two-Bit's heavy boots thudded into the kitchen. I couldn't remember the last time we'd gotten through a single dinner without someone coming through that door.

"Hey y'all," he greeted with a slur, using the back of Pony's chair to keep himself upright. "I'm thinkin' of going over to the strip, hunt some action."

He reached over Pony and nabbed a green bean from the bowl. "You and Steve wanna come, Soda?"

The green bean I was chewing on lodged itself in my throat, drawing a mangled choking sound from me. I picked up my glass, downing the rest of my milk.

"Aren't you and Steve, uh, busy?" I asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"Yeah, Steve is out with Evie and Superman and I are taking some junk down to the basement," he said between bites. "'Sides Two-Bit, you're already bombed."

Two-Bit scrunched his lips to the side and looked hopefully at Pony, even though we all knew Darry would never let him out of the house on a school night. "How about you, Pony?" He grinned so wide I could see his back teeth.

"Not a chance," Darry answered for him, slapping Two-Bit's hand away from his own plate. "He's got school tomorrow."

Two-Bit turned around and walked into the living room, mumbling something incoherent as he went.

"Hey Dar?" I started.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at me carefully.

"Soda's cooking ain't really agreeing with me," I told him, and Soda shoved me playfully.

I tried my best to sound earnest and calm, but really, my heart was about ready to jump up my throat.

"I think I'm gonna turn in early, if that's ok."

"Yeah, go ahead Luce," he said, shoving a forkful of beans in his mouth. "Check on Two-Bit 'fore you go. He's awful quiet."

I got up and scraped my plate into the garbage, then rinsed it off in the sink. Walking into the living room, I found Two-Bit sprawled out across the couch. He was cradling a King Cobra 40 like a newborn does it's bottle.

"You ain't goin' nowhere tonight," I muttered to myself as I shut off the T.V. "Thank God."

Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, I bid goodnight to my brothers, who probably didn't even notice, and walked down the hall to my room. I shucked off my clothes and dug around in my dresser for something to wear. I pulled on the shortest skirt I owned and a shirt deemed too tight and too short, by my mother. I slipped my feet into my magic shoes and grinned.

I realized that if Darry came in to check on me he'd notice in a heartbeat that I wasn't in bed. Throwing back the covers, I tucked my pillows lengthwise and covered them back up. It looked like a lump of nothing. 'Perfect,' I thought to myself. Now for the real challenge.

I had one leg almost through to the other side when my ankle gave out again and I crashed noisily into the wall. I clawed at my curtains to keep myself from falling and almost ripped them off the wall. The unmistakable sound of Darry's heavy footsteps coming down the hall was all the motivation I needed to dive under the covers as quietly as I could manage before he flung my door open.

"What's going on in here?" he asked, towering in my door frame. "What was that noise?"

I looked up at him as innocently as I could manage, my comforter pulled clear up to my chin. Glory, he'd be furious if he knew what I'd just been up to.

"I fell again," I told him honestly. "I'm pretty clumsy, you know."

I let out a nervous laugh, then clamped my mouth shut, convinced that if I said another thing I'd give myself away. He looked at me dubiously, then at my open window. My stomach jolted and I was sure he knew exactly what I was up to.

"Why's this window open?" he grumbled, taking two long strides across my room and slamming it shut. "I ain't paying to heat the outside, Lucy."

"Sorry Dar," I said meekly, then rolled over as if I was planning on going to sleep. "I'll keep it closed. G'night."

He stood there for a minute before muttering something as he shut my door again and headed back down the hall. I heard him ask Soda if he was ready to start moving things down to the basement and knew that I had to take my chance to get out right then and there. I got back out of bed, cursing the squeaky springs, and tried to open the window again, but it wouldn't budge. My heart raced and my mind went blank for a second as I tried to shoulder it open.

Darry must have jammed it when he'd shut it. I slumped against the wall, convinced that I was never going to make it down to the strip. Suddenly I remembered back to the previous summer. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the boys had been having a water fight in the yard. Soda, in what Darry had called "a harebrained stunt," had climbed out the bathroom window onto the roof of the shed in order to soak Pony and Johnny as they ran by. A smile spread across my face. It probably was harebrained, but it was the only way I was going to make it out of the house.

Opening my door only wide enough for one eye to see out into the hall, I watched as Darry good-naturedly pulled Soda to his feet, trying to convince him to help. I waited until both of them disappeared down the stairs carrying worn out boxes filled with things Darry had decided should be retired to the basement.

I saw my only chance to dart across the hall to the bathroom and went for it. Shutting the door as quietly as I could manage, I took my shoes off, wary of slipping again, and climbed up on the edge of the bathtub dropping them out the window. I was straddling the window with one foot securely on the shed, when the bathroom door flung open. There stood Ponyboy, staring in sheer disbelief at what he was seeing.

"What the heck are you doing?" he demanded in a hushed whisper. "Darry'll kill you if he finds out."

"Then don't tell him," I shushed him. "Get in here and shut the damn door!"

I hadn't expected him to listen to me. Actually, I'd half-expected him to go running straight to Darry, so it surprised me when he did shut both of us in the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" he asked, almost in awe. He'd never tried to sneak out before, as far as I knew.

I debated lying to him for a minute, but remembered that Pony was the only one who could really read me and decided against it. He'd know in a instant that if I was bullshitting him.

"Down to the strip with some friends," I told him, careful not say who exactly. As far as he knew the only friend I really had was Susan.

"You expect me to believe that Susan Allen's sneaking out for a night on the strip too?" he asked suspiciously. "Come on Luce; what are you really doing?"

I sighed impatiently. Being half out of a window wasn't exactly comfortable. "I didn't say I was going with Susan," I hissed. "Are you gonna rat me out, or not?"

Pony shuffled around uncomfortably for a minute before shaking his head. "I ain't gonna tell no one," he said quietly, then looked up. "But if you get in trouble out there I didn't have anything to do with it."

I wanted to hug him, but I was already halfway out the window. "Thanks Pone," I grinned ducking out the window and pulling my other leg out, fully on the roof of the shed.

"Lucy," he whispered after me and I stooped back down so I could see him through the window.

He looked worried. "Wake me up when you get in, okay?" he asked and I nodded hurriedly. It was almost nine. "And be careful."

Pony left the bathroom, flicking off the light. The shed didn't look that high up, in the dark anyway. I sat down, letting my legs dangle off the edge, trying to get as close to the ground as I could manage before dropping. I prayed that I didn't kill myself trying to do this. If Darry saw me now, he'd probably have a stroke. I sucked in my breath and held it as I plunged over the edge. As I hit the grass, wet and cold with dew, I realized that I--the invisible Lucy Curtis--was actually going to the strip.


	5. Chapter 5

Everything looked different at night. The two lonely streetlights on my block had a way of bending the shadows, making the houses seem colder; emptier somehow. I'd been up and down my street in the dark probably a hundred times before, but never alone. Everyone seemed to think that was just asking for trouble, but I hardly cared at that point. I'd practically been begging for trouble all day long.

When I hit Peoria I stopped at the corner, looking up and down the street for any sign of Angela or Margaret, but I was alone. I suddenly had a sinking feeling in my stomach. What if they didn't show up? How long was I supposed to wait around before it was obvious that I'd been duped.

Just then, a bucket of rust with no muffler came around the corner on two wheels. The blast of the horn about made me jump out of my heels, and there sat Angela in the driver's seat snickering at me. For a minute I thought about pointing out that she wasn't old enough to drive, but then realized that she probably already knew that. Margaret was sitting in the front seat beside Angela, rummaging around in her bag and searching under her seat for something and swearing a blue streak because she couldn't find it. Angela cocked her head towards the back seat and tucked a black curl behind her ear.

"You coming, or what?" she challenged.

At that point I could hardly back out of going with them, regardless of how stupid I thought it was for us to be driving around town. Margaret suddenly found what she'd been looking for and held up a fifth of whiskey triumphantly.

"Where'd you get this car, anyways?" I wondered aloud as I opened the back door and slid in beside the blonde from earlier. The old leather seats looked like someone had taken a blade to them and the floor was rusted through so bad that you could actually see patches of pavement through the holes.

"It's my brother's pile of junk," Angela told me as we pulled out onto the street again. "The idiot left the keys right out in the open. Margaret swiped them."

I swallowed hard. Tim Sheppard was notorious in our neighborhood. I fought back the urge to jump out of the car, figuring that rolling into a ditch on the side of the road would probably be less painful than the beating Tim would give us if we were caught in his car. Angela caught the look on my face in her rear view mirror and smirked.

"You scared, or something?" she goaded me.

"It'll be fine," Margaret told me, turning around to hand me the bottle. "Tim ain't even been home in days."

"He got into it with Sully Chase a few nights ago and no one's heard from him since," the blond filled me in as I forced down a swig. "Angela's father is about ready to-"

"Barb!" Angela screeched from the front seat. "Shut the fuck up already."

"I'm sorry Ang," Barb said meekly and I passed the bottle to her as a sort of consolation. "I didn't know we weren't talking about it."

"Well now you do," she snapped back crossly, "so shut your trap for once in your life."

"Jesus Barb," Margaret muttered taking the bottle away from her before she could get a swallow, "way to get her all riled up."

I snuck a look at Barb, whose face had gone red. I wondered briefly why she put up with the two of them ragging on her. Then I figured she was probably just as desperate to have them as friends as I was. She wasn't half as pretty as either Margaret or Angela and she definitely didn't have the confidence they so easily possessed.

"Where are we going?" I asked as Angela swung the car onto a side street running the opposite direction of the strip. "I thought we were heading downtown."

"Well, we had a change of plans," Angela updated me, more calmly that how she'd been talking to Barb. "It's a Wednesday night. Nothing's going on over there anyways."

Angela took the bottle from Margaret and gulped it down as if it was water. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and checked herself in the rear view.

"We were thinking about heading over to Buck Merrill's," Margaret mused from the front seat.

I felt my jaw drop. I'd heard Soda and Darry warning Pony to keep away from there, so it was assumed that I wouldn't dare to set foot in that place either. Beside me, Barb nodded her head vigorously.

"That'll be a blast," she gushed. "Great idea."

"Can it, Barb," Angela snapped, obviously still irritated with her.

Margaret just laughed and passed me the bottle again. "You up for a trip out to Buck's?" she asked me.

I took a long swallow--partly to stall long enough for me to figure out what to do, and partly for a little "liquid courage," as Two-Bit called it.

"I'm not really supposed to be over there," I confessed.

Margaret looked confused. She lived with her aunt, who was too busy working double-shifts to keep tabs on where she went or who she was with. I wished wildly that Darry worked more so he wouldn't be on top of everything Pony and I did.

"Well," Angela sighed, slamming on the brakes, "Hit the bricks or put a cork in it 'till we get there."

I looked at Margaret, who was studying me intently, then at Barb, who looked like she wanted me to pass her the bottle in my hand. I took one more mouthful and handed it to Barb with a grin.

"I never said I wasn't going," I shot back at Angela, narrowing my eyes. "I just said I wasn't supposed to."

Angela and Margaret exchanged impressed looks and we started heading out past the tracks to Buck's. I was most definitely begging for trouble.

A voice in the back of my head screamed at me to just tell Angela to stop and let me leave, but for some reason I ignored it. Maybe it was because I was stupid, or maybe it was just that desperate to belong to the elite world I imagined Angela and Margaret lived in. I groaned inwardly: desperation is an ugly thing.


	6. Chapter 6

I could hear the clamor of Buck's place long before Angela pulled off of the main road and into the driveway. Buck's was set deep in greaser territory, far from the battle lines of the opposing East and West sides of town. I doubted that a Soc had ever set foot anywhere near Buck's; the only brawls there were grease on grease.

He had about five acres of land between the big old farmhouse he'd turned into a makeshift taproom and the wide open pasture he ran his horses in and sometimes held bonfires. From the bottom of the driveway, we could see the shadows of the people inside standing shoulder-to-shoulder and more than two dozen more that hadn't been able to squeeze into the building were milling around on the porch and front lawn.

"Looks pretty packed," Margaret observed finishing the bottle of booze and tossing it out the window so that it shattered on the gravel. "You think we'll be able to get in?"

I could see Angela smiling from the rear view mirror. "I'm sure we'll manage," she replied coolly, easing the car up the driveway. "If they won't let us all in, Barb can always wait in the car."

Barb didn't dare say anything to that.

"You wouldn't really stay, would you, Barb?" I asked lowly, so Angel and Margaret couldn't hear me. As desperate as I was to fit in with them, I couldn't imagine really waiting around in the car--even for them.

"Take a look at this," she breathed, rather than answering me. She pulled my head towards the window and pointed towards a black silhouette, stalking towards the car. I could tell it was Tim; just by the way he walked. I felt my stomach freeze over as I realized my worst fears were about to come true.

"Angel's gonna get it," she snickered with a look of sick satisfaction on her face.

"That means we are too, Barb," I hissed, smacking the back of Angela's seat as Tim got closer. He walked through the small circle of light by the front door. I'd never been so scared in all my life. He looked like the devil himself, the way his dark eyes were narrowed, pulling his face together as his lips twisted into an animal-like snarl. I think if it weren't physically impossible, his eyes would've been red and he would've been steaming through his ears.

"What the hell, Lucy?" Angela shot, running a hand through her raven colored hair. She turned around in her seat and glared at me as I pointed fruitlessly at the window.

Margaret turned around in her seat too, her face dropping. Apparently Tim's consequences were the only ones Angel or Margaret answered to. "Shit, Angel, we're in for it. I told you not to--"

"Shut up, Marge," Angel snapped, cutting her off as Tim smacked his fist against the glass. She rolled down her window with a grin on her face. "Hey, Tim, I brought your car for you," she drawled, smiling up at him.

"Who said you could take my fucking car, Angel?" he questioned, glaring at Angela. "You ain't even old enough to be driving."

By that time the small crowd of people outside had circled the car to see the latest Sheppard brawl. Angela raised an eyebrow and looked at him as innocently as possible.

"You did," she answered, "C'mon, you left the keys out in the open, Timothy."

That only made Tim's face get redder.

"You made the rule yourself; 'If it ain't in your goddamn room, it's free fucking game,' and that's a direct quote," Angel smiled slyly at Tim and chuckled. "I told you it was a stupid rule."

"Watch your mouth, Angela," Tim warned. It almost seemed funny to me that he should be worried about how much Angela cursed, even if it was an awful lot.

"Sheesh," Angela muttered. "Where do you think I learned it from?"

Tim ripped the car door open. "Get out--you and your goddamn friends! And, since you think you're such a fucking smartass, y'all can walk home," Tim snapped harshly.

Angela glared up at Tim. That girl sure had guts. I'd never seen anyone go head-to-head with Tim Sheppard before.

"You're just gonna leave your own sister out here in the middle of nowhere?" she shot back, her voice raising to that unbearable pitch she got just before she started tearing someone's head off. "'Sides, Margaret took your keys. Not me."

Margaret about kicked her door open, hollering for me and Barb to get out. She slammed her door and spun around, sticking her head through the window with a terrifying look on her face that plainly meant for us to beat it. Tim might have had reservations about pummeling his own sister, but I doubted he would have hesitated to knock the rest of our heads off. I didn't even dare open my door, but scrambled out on Barb's side to avoid coming within striking range of Tim.

"Lemme know when y'all's shit ain't so fucked up, alright Angela?" Margaret spun around on her heel and looped her arm through mine, dragging me back in the direction we came from and ignoring Angela's cries for us to come back.

I was pretty grateful for that. In the car I'd been fearless, for Angel and Marge's sake. Now that we were actually here, though, I wasn't itching to go inside. Some of the guys along the drive way started whistling, throwing cat-calls and saying other dirty things that made my cheeks heat up. Margaret just laughed and told them to 'get bent'.

"What are you doin', Margaret?" I asked her since she kept her arm looped through mine even long after we were out of Buck's driveway.

She looked at me sideways and laughed so hard I thought she was going to throw-up. "Glory, Luce, y'sure are clueless," she said between laughs. Marge straightened herself up, wiping away the tears from her eyes. "I'm walking you home. Don't you know it ain't safe for girls like us to wander alone 'round these parts?"

"Yeah, I reckon so," I replied, looking over my shoulder. "Where do you think Barb got off to?"

Margaret shrugged, saying, "Probably decided to stay. She does whatever Angel tells her to."

That went without saying, I thought.

"Seems like everyone does what Angela Sheppard tells them to," I mumbled before I'd realized it. I stole a glance at Marge, trying to gauge her reaction, but it almost seemed like she hadn't even heard me.

"She's not that bad," Marge finally answered. "She's just got a pretty big reputation to live up to, you know?"

I knew, alright, and could strangely relate. Sure, I didn't have to be the toughest or the bravest, but I could understand what it felt like to live in the shadow of brothers who weren't exactly low-profile.

"She's a good friend to have on your side when things get rough," Margaret decided. "The one good thing she picked up from those brothers of hers is loyalty. She ain't no bleeding heart, but she'll be there in a pinch."

I wondered if she'd be on my side if things ever got rough for me. At that point though, I was still an outsider. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd barely begun to scratch the surface of Angela and Margaret's world.

_Big thanks, as always, to Jenny._


	7. Chapter 7

I was standing in the overgrown grass of the backyard, looking up at the shed I had come down from only a few hours before. I decided that it was a miracle I hadn't broken my neck jumping off, and also that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to climb back up it to get in the house.

For a few minutes I tried to force my own window open again, but gave up after my feet shot out from under me on the slick grass and I ruined my nylons.

From the front yard, I had seen Darry flat on his back on the couch. He might have been out cold, but I didn't dare to stick even one toe on the porch for fear of him waking up and all hell breaking loose.

I rubbed my eyes as the effects of the whiskey I'd slugged in the car, and again on the way home, hit me in another mixed wave of nausea and vertigo. I glanced up at the only window in the house that I could easily climb into, knowing that both Soda and Pony were sleeping soundly on the other side. Defeated, I realized that there was no way for me to sneak back into the house without waking someone up.

I peeked through Soda and Pony's window, surprised to see only one snoring lump in their bed. Usually the two of them were huddled up together like a couple of puppies.

"Lucy," I heard someone whisper, and whipped around in search of the voice. "Luce, up here!"

I looked up to the top of the shed where Ponyboy was crouched down in his boxers.

"What're you doing up there in your underwear?" I stifled a laugh and Pony scowled.

"Trying to help you get back in this house before you wake up Darry with all the noise you're making," he growled and stuck his hand out.

I grabbed for him, trying not to make any more noise as he helped me get back on the roof, and kicked over a trash can. We both froze as we heard Darry groan from the living room. For a second, I thought Pony was going to drop me back into the back yard and hit the deck.

Instead, he shot me a dirty look and hoisted me up on the shed beside him. As quietly as I could manage, I climbed back through the bathroom window. Pony followed nimbly behind me, moving faster and more agile than I could have ever hoped to be, at that point.

His hand stayed firmly on the small of my back as he led me to my room, as if he thought I'd either fall or run away from him. He shut the door behind us as I flopped onto my bed, suddenly drained from the excitement, anxiety and hooch I'd experienced in the previous hours.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Pony hissed, sounding more like Darry that I cared to hear just then.

"Whaddaya mean?" I slurred, trying to pull my blanket over my legs.

Pony shoved my blanket out of the way easily and pulled of a shoe, waving as he continued. "It's practically one in the morning!" he growled as he pulled my other shoe off, tossing the pair into my closet. "I thought you were just going down to the strip."

I tried to force my eyes open, confused as to why I felt like I was on a roller coaster every time I closed them. "We never made it to the strip," I told him as he tugged at my nylons until I kicked at him and wriggled out of them myself.

"Golly, you smell like Two-Bit. Where on earth did you go for four hours?" he demanded, rummaging through my drawers, looking for something I could sleep in. I grinned to myself, amused that he was so worked up. Usually, no one noticed what I did.

I sat up, popping onto my knees at the end of the bed, eager to tell him where I'd been. "Buck Merrill's," I announced and Pony whipped around, shocked.

"But Darry and Soda said we're not allowed to go there," he faltered.

"Darry and Soda said _you_ aren't allowed to go there," I reminded him. "Neither one of them said anything about me going there."

Pony blinked. Then, a smile spread slowly across his face and he tossed an oversized t-shirt at me. "You're bad," he laughed, as if he almost didn't believe it.

I sighed happily and flopped onto my back. I liked the way that sounded. Maybe things were finally changing. Maybe I would no longer be the invisible Curtis.

"Well I'm glad you got this out of your system, anyways," Pony whispered, heading for the door. "I don't like keeping things from Soda… or Darry, even."

For a minute, I debated telling him that I was a changed woman; that I wasn't just going to follow the rules anymore. Then, for some reason, I thought better of it. Two-Bit had once told me that the fastest way to lose a secret was to tell people about it. At the time, I'd thought he was just a drunk idiot. Now, though, I was seeing the sense in his words.

The less people that knew about the new me, the better.

"Goodnight Lucy," Pony murmured from the door, as if he knew what I was thinking. I rolled over, not about to let him figure me out so easily.

"Night Pone," I yawned, kicking the t-shirt to the floor, too tired to change. "And thanks, you know? For not ratting me out."

Pony didn't say anything, but hesitated a minute before shutting my door.

For a brief moment, I wondered if he was having second thoughts about not telling Darry. I hastily pushed those thoughts out of my mind though, more interested in falling asleep to replaying the events of the night.

Things were changing, alright.


	8. Chapter 8

Pony had a hell of a time getting me out of bed the next morning.

"Fine!" he finally sputtered, shoving the base of my bed so the headboard banged against the wall. "You can explain to Darry why you're so tired."

Apparently, his patience and understanding with me had worn out the night before. I pushed the pillows I'd been using as a barricade from the sun off my face, and gave Pony the most pathetic look I could manage. With the way my head was pounding, it wasn't hard.

"Don't even try it," Pony scoffed, crossing his arms. "This is your own doing."

"I know," I groaned, sitting up. "I didn't aim to feel this bad, though."

Pony grinned, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. "I guess you're not gonna be boozing again any time soon, huh?" he said knowingly.

I grabbed a pillow to put back over my face. One look at me and Pony would know that, despite my hangover, I would most definitely be doing it again. Margaret and Angela had introduced me to the life I'd been dreaming of and missing out on. That one, small taste of freedom and attention was all I'd needed to convince myself to dive headfirst into their world. Suddenly, my pounding head seemed more like a souvenir; proof that I really had spent the night on the town.

I heard Pony sigh impatiently, and realized that he wasn't going to leave me alone until he actually saw me get out of bed.

"Alright, alright," I groaned, swinging my legs off the side of the bed and sitting up.

"It's about time," he complained, as my stomach did a somersault. His eyes grew wide as I felt the blood drain from my face. I suddenly felt how Two-Bit always looked after a night out.

I bolted for the bathroom, knocking Pony out of my way and almost plowing into Soda in a desperate attempt to make it to the bowl. As everything I'd eaten and drank the day before came back up, I heard a chorus of "eeews" from the hall.

"You sick Luce?" Soda asked, walking in as I rested my aching head on the side of the bathtub.

"Really, Soda?" Pony snorted, reaching past him to hand me my toothbrush.

The next thing I knew, Darry was squeezed into the tiny bathroom too. "What's going on?" he demanded and I let out a groan.

"Does everyone have to bear witness to this?" I sighed, flushing the toilet.

"Did you just throw up?" Darry cried, his hand instantly resting on my forehead. "You don't feel warm; just clammy."

I shrugged, not in any hurry to explain why I'd just heaved.

"Well, brush your teeth and get on back to bed," he ordered, handing me the toothpaste. "We can't afford for you to be getting sick right now."

Pony's eyes just about popped out of his head. "She gets to stay home?" he challenged. "That's not fair."

Darry jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "When you blow chunks, you can stay home too. Deal?"

Pony shot me a dirty look, but nodded as Darry herded him and Soda out of the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, almost feeling guilty that I got to stay home when I'd made myself this sick.

I spit, and decided to lie on the couch. The sun had been pouring into my bedroom, making my head hurt worse, but the living room was pretty dim in the mornings. I shuffled past Soda and Darry, who were bickering over what Darry should pick up for dinner that night. The sound of food made my stomach turn again, so I flopped onto the couch, trying to bury my head in the cushions.

Someone swatted at my foot, and I rolled over, opening one eye. Ponyboy stood at the foot of the couch with an outraged look on his face.

"You're lucky I don't tell Darry the real reason you're sick," he hissed. "I have to be bleeding out my eyes before he'll let me miss school."

"I already told you that I didn't aim to feel this bad," I frowned, starting to get irritated. My head was pounding and my stomach felt like it was sweating on the inside; the last thing I wanted to hear was Pony whining.

He unexpectedly smiled and looked at Darry. "Don't worry Dar," he told our brother. "I'll make sure to get all her homework from her teachers."

Darry nodded absently and hustled both Pony and Soda out the door. He paused for a moment at the door to look down that me.

"Try to sleep as much as you can, you hear?" he ordered. "If you're feeling better this afternoon, you can walk down to the DX and get some ginger ale."

I nodded as the inside of my mouth started to sweat too, just thinking about putting anything in my stomach. Darry clenched his jaw a few times, something he did when he was thinking hard or worried. For a brief moment, I thought he was going to call me out on, not being sick, but hung-over. Luckily he just grabbed his car keys and hurried out the door after the boys.

Suddenly I knew why people were always saying "silence is golden." I figured the guy who made up that saying must have been feeling like I was. I pulled the blanket up over my head, trying to escape even the smallest amount of light. Even though I felt like I could plausibly die, I realized that I still wouldn't have changed a thing about the night before--especially since I'd gotten away with it so easily.

I let my eyes close, drifting slowly back into sleep, thoughts of the night before filling my head. For a minute, I wondered if Margaret and Angela would think it was weird that I didn't show up at school. Then my stomach did another flip and I surrendered myself to sleep, if only to avoid being aware of how awful I felt.

By the time I woke up again, I could tell it was early afternoon. The sun had moved, bending the shadows in the living room. I realized that the noon mass church bells had woken me up, as I heard the last few echoing down the streets from the bell tower.

I stood up, surprised that I didn't feel half bad. Shuffling over to the fridge, I was disgusted to find only milk and ketchup in he ice box. After debating whether being thirsty all day or walking down to the store was more inconvenient, I decided to get dressed and head to the DX. I hoped the fresh air would do something for my lingering headache.

Stepping off the porch, I wished wildly for a pair of sunglasses. As my eyes adjusted and my muscles loosened though, I started to feel a bit better. I picked up my pace, certain that a little ginger ale would settle any remaining uneasiness in my stomach.

"Lucy!" I heard from behind me. I stopped and turned to see none other than Angela and Margaret crossing the street towards me.


	9. Chapter 9

Angela and Margaret dashed across the street, laughing as a Studebaker blared its horn angrily at them.

"Why aren't you in school?" Margaret asked breathlessly as she leapt out of the street and onto the sidewalk.

Behind her, Angela looked me up and down disparagingly as she lit a cigarette. I shrugged at Marge's question, trying to come up with any reason for my absence from school other than the truth. I doubted either of the girls would think too much of me if they knew I was too hungover to get myself out of bed.

Margaret just laughed. "We ditched too," she assumed, and I was grateful it didn't occur to her to think otherwise. "Where are you going?"

I suddenly remembered that I was within eyesight of the DX. When I looked, both Soda and Steve were staring at us. I felt my stomach sink a little, knowing I was in for a barrage of questions from them.

My mind raced as I realized the trouble that could come of them following me to the DX. If Soda found out about the night before, I knew he'd tell Darry. Pony and I might have had an unspoken agreement not to tattle on each other, but we both knew that Soda ran straight to Darry once he had dirt on anyone.

"I gotta go take care of something over at the DX," I finally answered when Angela sighed impatiently.

Margaret appeared interested, looking behind her towards the gas station. "Something personal," I added quickly, to discourage her from following me. "Can I catch up with you later?"

I almost expected them to press me for more information about this personal trip to the DX. Instead, Marge just nodded and grabbed my hand, scratching her phone number onto my arm.

"Call me," she ordered and touched her cool, smooth cheek to mine, making a kissing sound--something I'd watched her do with Angela and Barb at least a hundred times before.

Angela scowled at this, but managed to force a half-smile and wave as she passed me to follow Margaret around the corner.

"Lucy!" Soda called from the driveway of the DX and I hurried to meet him. Steve was leaning up against the gas pump with his cap pulled down low, so I couldn't tell where he was looking.

As I passed him, he grabbed my arm and gawked for a minute at the seven digits scrawled on my skin, before I yanked it away.

"Can you believe it?" he demanded of Soda. "I've been trying to get her number for weeks and she goes ahead and gives it to your kid sister."

"Since when are you friends with Margaret and Angela?" Soda asked warily, and I felt anger rising inside me.

Of course Soda and Steve would assume I wouldn't--no couldn't be friends with girls like that. I obviously wasn't exceptional enough to have been befriended by two of the most popular girls in school.

"You two grease monkeys don't know everything," I snapped. "Margaret and I happen to be especially good friends."

I turned to leave, then spun back, my hair whipping my face. "I wouldn't hold your breath for that number, Steve," I added, because Steve was always so hateful anyways. "She's out of your league."

Steve's jaw dropped as I spun back around. He was clearly stunned and outraged that I'd finally dared to snap back at him. Suddenly, I heard Soda's roaring laugh.

"What's so funny?" I demanded crossly and he slung his arm around my shoulder.

"Grease monkeys?" he chuckled. "It's about time you stood up to ole Steve. He's been picking on you for years, and you ain't never said 'boo' to him."

I grinned smugly at Steve and he shot me a fierce look.

"C'mon," Soda motioned for me to follow him. "I'll buy you a ginger ale."

I followed Soda up the drive and into the shop, where he cracked the top off a bottle of ginger ale.

"How are you feeling, anyway?" he asked with genuine concern, taking a swig of the bottle before handing it to me.

"Better," I muttered between sips, feeling a bit guilty about making him worry when I was only hungover.

I glanced up at Soda, feeling him staring at me. His warm eyes were curious without being prying.

"So you're hanging out with a new crowd these days?" he asked as offhandedly as he could manage.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't you start in too," I warned gravely. The last thing I wanted was to have this conversation with Soda, of all people. He was so clueless sometimes that it was hardly worth talking to him about anything of real importance.

"Alright, I wasn't gonna hassle you about it," he cried in his own defense. "I just think it's nice that you're finally making some friends, is all."

I lowered my eyes, humiliated that even my own brother thought I was a nobody. He maladroitly tried to swipe a piece of hair out of my face.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, and nodded hurriedly.

"My stomach's still a little uneasy," I lied and slid my ginger ale to him, the sight of it suddenly making me sick. "I'd better get home."

Soda seemed happy to believe that I was just nauseous and patted me on the head absurdly.

"Feel better," he offered, as I returned outside. Steve, who was pumping gas into a new Ford, paused to give me a nasty look.

I felt my anger of being ignored and always second-best start to rise again. I felt those feelings of frustration and embarrassment over never being good enough and always being compared to my 'perfect' brothers push towards the surface. I could practically hear Darry begging me to be more outgoing, like Soda, or more focused on my schoolwork, like Pony. I hated Steve for reminding me that, even if Angela and Margaret took a liking to me, I was still invisible to everyone else. I was so tired of just blending into the background. For once, I just wanted to be the best at something. For one, I wanted to be noticed.

My ears started ringing and I realized I'd been holding my breath to keep from screaming. I gulped mouthfuls of cool, fresh air and tried to calm myself down.

"Who cares about being the best?" I finally decided, kicking at an old can so hard that it ricocheted off the curb and into the street. "Who cares if no one but Marge and Angel notice me."

I suddenly realized that what I had always considered my curse could very well turn out to be a blessing. If no one noticed me, then no one would miss me being in the background. If everyone wanted to assume that sweet, quiet Lucy would never sneak out of the house to booze cruise around town--with the likes of a Shepard, no less--then let them. In the meantime, I had other plans.


	10. Chapter 10

Soda had unintentionally provided me with the fuel I needed to go completely wild. I vowed silently to abandon any trepidation I was holding on to and fully commit to the lifestyle Marge and Angel were so used to living.

Instead of wallowing over my dismally monotonous existence and lack of attention or respect from anyone in my family, I began to embrace my anonymity. It suddenly became too easy to sneak out of the house unnoticed. Once I was with my new friends, however, I was suddenly someone of consequence; I was no longer the invisible Curtis--I was the wild one. I became a creature of the night, as I made it my priority to observe the behaviors of Angela and Margaret and mimic them as closely as possible.

Only two and a half weeks after Marge had bestowed her coveted phone number upon me, I had the two of them just about figured out. I'd learned that all it took to remain in their good graces was drinking as much as they did, as well as being completely amenable to anything and everything they wanted to do. Angela and Margaret were used to getting their way and I was obliged to appease them if it meant I was no longer invisible.

Margaret suddenly became my fashion guru, donating all the clothes she'd grown out of with the acquisition of her breasts to me. She ratted my hair until it was almost as big as hers and taught me how to shoplift makeup from the drug store. It was amazing what a little mascara could do for a girl's confidence.

I could tell Darry wasn't too thrilled when I sat down for dinner with my face all painted up, but he never did say anything about it. I reckon he figured it wasn't worth the fight when no one noticed me enough to care much either way.

In fact, Darry didn't have a single thing to say about the new me until the first time I slipped up and allowed my new life to bump into the old one.

"I just don't understand what on earth you were thinking about, Lucy," Darry was fuming as he paced the living room floor. "I would have thought you'd know better than to get into a car with someone you hardly know."

I threw my head back against the couch and glared at the ceiling. Leave it to Steve Randle to run straight to my big brothers after seeing me climb into the front seat of Sully Bradley's car. The only reason I was even driving around with him in the first place was because Angela and Margaret had gotten detention. Sully was already 18, having been held back a few times in school, and was our main connection for beer and liquor. Unfortunately, Sully wasn't in the business of waiting around for a couple of girls to get out of detention, so I was sent along with our drink order for the night.

When Sully pulled up to retrieve the list of requested spirits and what little cash we had, he did a double take. Recognizing that Sully was knocked for six over the new look Marge had plied me with, I inherently flipped my hair and coyly leaned into the window of his car.

It didn't take much more than an alluring giggle and a few tantalizing touches to secure an invitation to the store with him.

Somehow, though, Randle had witnessed my triumphant exploit and wasted no time spilling the beans to Soda and Darry.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Darry demanded, Steve snickering behind him. I hated that he'd stuck around to witness me getting chewed out.

"It's really not that big of a deal," I insisted, impressed with how much my lying had improved. "He was just a friend offering to give me a ride home is all."

Darry's eyes narrowed as he tried to stare me down. I just glared right back at him, though. I'd recently developed a distaste for anyone that tried to tell me what to do.

"I just don't understand what's gotten into you lately, young lady," Darry sighed. "You're grounded for the next week."

I laughed inside at the fact that he actually believed he had a chance at getting me to stay in the house for even one night. I'd perfected five different methods of sneaking out; each dependant on which exits were blocked by one of my brothers or their nosy friends.

"Fine," I agreed, anxious for the discussion to be over. "Anything else?"

Darry furrowed his brow for a minute, just like Dad used to do when he was trying to imagine what he was supposed to say to us when we were naughty as children. As I'd never really given Darry any trouble before, I imagine it was tough for him to start thinking up ways to make me feel sorry this late in the game.

"Well, I hope you've learned your lesson," he drawled, returning to his newspaper.

The only thing I'd learned was to try harder not to get caught.


End file.
